This post is written for Friday Fictioneers.
They had made the reservations months in advance. They had visions of what they would see. The Oval Office, the East Room, a walk around the Rose Garden, these would be the things that they would tell their children and grandchildren. In their wildest dream even the President stopped by and said hello.
“You have arrived at your destination,” the GPS on their rental car announced.
“Carole, this can’t be right,” Ted said.
“I put the White House in the search bar.”
Ted, looking out his car widow saw the sign: “White House Pub and Grill.”